


That Was You!?

by Glaire_Cordon, i_am_greg_lestrade



Series: The Twins RP [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mycroft and Greg met when they were in Uni and fucked in the loo of a gay bar, Mycroft in skinny jeans, Mycroft's ex, Porn with some plot, Punk!Greg, Shameless Smut, They didn't know it, fuckboy!OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 01:26:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4160379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glaire_Cordon/pseuds/Glaire_Cordon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_greg_lestrade/pseuds/i_am_greg_lestrade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What are the chances someone you met at a gay bar and never saw again would come back to you life? Maybe...even the person you marry?</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Was You!?

**Author's Note:**

> Here is another (actual) one shot with my Gregory and I. Hope you enjoy! If you have read the other RPs we have posted, we haven't forgotten them, we will update them ASAP. 
> 
> Love,  
> Rae and Quin

Knowing he was probably going to stand out, but not caring, Mycroft entered the bar, the music loud and the lights flashing. He was in skinny jeans, white button down and bright red braces, feet in bright red converse. He ordered a whiskey to get some courage in him before joining the dancing throng.

Greg stood at the bar, nodding his head to the loud music. He was nursing his third jack and coke when this guy in a button down attracted his attention. And... of course. Greg smirked. He was ginger. Greg had a preference when it came to men, and tall and ginger was it. This new guy... Greg watched him move onto the dance floor and start to dance. Arching an eyebrow, Greg moved into the crowd, towards the guy. He stepped towards him and started dancing in front of him, his own black converse sharply contrasting with his white ripped skinny jeans and his dark green tee, an unbuttoned charcoal waistcoat thrown on over it. He winked at the guy, but kept his distance.

Mycroft shot a look at the handsome stranger dancing across from him, smirking. Four piercings, two in each lobe, two eyebrow piercings, there was more than likely a tongue piercing as well. He didn't come out often, but from the way the punk was looking at him...he closed the distance between them, pressing almost completely against the punk. "Hello~"

/Daring.../ Greg smirked. "Hi there.," he said over the music, his chest bumping into the tall ginger's more than once. "You bloody well can dance, there, mate." Greg swayed to the beat, opening looking the guy over.

The ginger shrugged. The song changed and it was one that you didn't want without a partner. It was down and dirty, and, well, Mycroft was feeling daring. He caught sight of his ex, Steven Malic off in the corner. He shot him a dark look before returning his attention to his handsome punk

Greg put his hands on the tall guy's hips and pulled him close, rocking with the tempo. God, this guy was unbelievably gorgeous, but Greg kept that to himself. He didn't want to freak the guy out.

Mycroft dropped his hands to broad shoulders, moving against him sensually. He was here to prove a point, that he did get out and he did have fun. And if this was the attention he got, well... he leaned in and growled, "You come here often?"

Greg's breath caught slightly and his cheeks warmed. "Mm, I do. When I ain't working, I'm here or at football." He swayed his hips against the guy's and smirked. "Haven't seen you here before, though..."

"I don't get out much." Not a lie, but he was willing to change that. "Though... I may have reason to now." He smirked, before turning and pressing back against him, moving along his body.

Greg grinded against the bold guy, completely loving this dancing. He nosed into the soft hair on the back of the guy's head as they swayed to the beat, sweat slicking their skin. Greg lost himself in the music and in the way this man moved. Eventually, Greg found himself wanting, craving more of this guy with the gingery hair and the gorgeous, lithe body.

Mycroft looked over his shoulder, throwing a heated look over his shoulder. He moved a hand back and gently grabbed a hand full of dark hair, moving just so, knowing he was showing off, but for once didn't care. 

Greg let out a soft moan, turning his face to be buried in the guys long neck. He gave him a light nip against his skin, a test of some sorts. To see his reaction.

Mycroft bit his lip, moaning softy. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the sensation of feeling another body pressed against his, in a way that was both beautiful and dirty.

He wasn't expecting his ex to suddenly press against him, killing the mood. "Off Malic!"

Greg took a step back and looked at the two. The smaller guy was kind of douchy looking, a flatbilled hat on cocked sideways with no shirt and cargo shorts. He honestly looked like the kind of guys Greg beats up for harassing girls at his uni. "Oi, mate, couldn't you see we were dancing here?" He crossed his arms and glared at the fuckboy.

"My here is mine, punk. So, back off." Mycroft glared. "We broke up a month ago, you creep. Back. Off." He turned back to his punk dancing partner, before Malic wrapped his arms around the ginger and roughly pulled him off, biting into Mycroft's neck. "Hey!"

"Oi!!" Greg shouted, his yell loud enough to alert the bouncer. "S'th' problem here, boys?" The bouncer asked gruffly. Greg nodded to the bite mark on the tall ginger's neck and too the shirtless creep trying to back away. "Flatbill bit my mate here without his consent. Thought y'all banned people for that shit." The big bouncer glared at the cowering fuckboy. "We do. And this guy's been askin' for it all night, bein' a lit'l shit." He put a meaty hand on Malic's shoulder and gave him a good shove towards the doors. "Out with ye, mate." There was a round of applause from a few of the bystanders before the DJ kicked the music back up. Greg looked at the ginger guy. "Y'arright, mate?" He asked. He led the guy off the dance floor and to a booth, where one of the male waiters took their order. Greg just ordered whiskey for them both, on him.

Mycroft put a hand on the spot he had been bitten, pulling away, lip curling. "Fuck...he /knows/ I hate it when a bite makes me bleed." When their whiskey was brought, he just knocked it back, wincing a little at the burn. "Thank you...and apologies for my ex." He knew there would be problems from him later, but for now, he was gone.

"I don't even know why I dated him. Became a massive creep and all he wanted was sex after our third date."

"He's a piece of work, that's for sure," Greg said, shaking his head. "Glad he got kicked out..." Greg took a sip of his own drink, still a bit buzzed from his first few. "So, uh. You can really dance, mate," Greg stated, looking sidelong at that gorgeous ginger.

"Thanks." He smiled. "You aren't bad yourself good sir. You...you're really good. And rather handsome." Realizing what he blurted out, he flagged down another waiter and got another shot of whiskey, throwing it back as though it were water.

Greg face warmed and he was sure it wasn't the drink. "You're pretty damn gorgeous yourself, there, mate," he said quickly, licking his lips. He smiles a devilish smirk at the guy, not even sure of his intentions yet. All he thought was that he was being flirted with and, dammit, he was going to flirt right back.

Mycroft licked his lips, watching his companion. Part of him wanted to return to the dance floor, and part of him wanted... "How badly do you want to return to the dance floor?"

Greg tried reading the look on the other guy's face, and, from what he could see... Greg shifted closer on the seat, their legs rubbing. "I... I kinda don't... " Greg breathed out, looking at the pink cheeks of this beautiful man in front of him.

"Same." the ginger said, looking at the punk. He ran a foot up his leg, licking his lips again. "Same."

Greg shivered with the touch and, at that, he leaned in and gently kissed the ginger, softly and tentatively at first. He pulled back and looked at him again, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by forcing him to go further if he didn't want it.

Mycroft started, then grabbed the punk's shirt and kissed him again. It was nice, chase, but there was definitely heat behind it.

Greg definitely felt the need behind this kiss, the barely, contained lust on both ends, and that was enough for him. He tangled a hand in those soft ginger locks, kissing back with intensity.

He felt his hands move, one going to dark hair and the other went to his shoulder. He ran the tip of his tongue across the bottom lip of his companion.

Greg parted his lips instinctively, moaning softly when their tongues met. Greg's head spun, his entire body hot with want. Their lips together felt amazing and so fucking good.

Mycroft used his arm to push the table into the seat across from the in the booth and climbed into the punk's lap, moving against him, moaning softly.

He was breathing hard, and he had never done anything like this before, but he didn't care.

Greg wrapped his arms around the ginger's waist, holding him against him. Greg stomach fluttered at the little noises that he was making and it felt amazing. He'd kissed plenty of people before, but this... this was a /kiss/. And Greg felt as if he could do this forever.

Mycroft pulled back a little, needing a moment to catch his breath. He opened his eyes to see brown eyes overtaken by black, and he wanted then and there was to leave bruises on that lovely tan skin. He attacked the neck of his companion, sucking and licking.

Greg's hands curled in the back of the white button down as he gasped. "Ah!~" He tilted his head to give that man and his glorious lips more room.

Mycroft licked the red line his teeth had left, before pulling back and smiling smugly at his companion. "Well?"

Leaning up, Greg got close to this beautiful man's ear. "I want to fuck you," he growled, running his hand up the guy's thigh.

Mycroft's breath caught. This was highly unexpected. "Y-you do?" He wasn't sure he heard correctly.

"Oh god, yes," Greg breathed, arching his hips under his companion. He groaned softly with need and desire.

"Where? Where?" The ginger threw all doubts to the wind, but he needed this and he needed it now

Greg looked around and noticed the bathrooms a few tables away. He lift the tall ginger out of his lap and set him on his feet out of the booth. He took his hand and led him to the bathrooms and, as soon as the doors were shut, Greg forced them both into a stall and threw the lock. His lips found his gorgeous ginger's own again and kissed him passionately.

Mycroft tangled his fingers in dark hair again, pulling the other's tongue into his mouth. He was thrumming with energy and want. His neck still hurt where his ex attempted to reclaim him, but that was soon washed away by this sexy punk. Mycroft moaned, wanting more

Greg ran his fingers under the braces, pushing them off the ginger's shoulders he immediately went to unbutton his jeans. All the while, his lips traveling along that beautiful long pale neck. He traced his tongue over the other rough bite mark and kissed it softly before moving on.

"Nnn...." Mycroft gasped, letting his bracers fall to his legs. He pulled that sweet mouth back to his, running his hands down that strong torso. "Damn..." He whispered.

Greg pulled back and looked at this beautiful man. In the dim light of the room, Greg could tell his cheeks were flushed, his blue irises nearly overtaken by the pupils. There was lust and desire and want in those eyes and Greg was more than happy to oblige. As he tugged the white shirt from the jeans, Greg kept his eyes on the sexy ginger's, watching them flutter when he slipped his hand up the smooth skin of his stomach.

Mycroft had to try very hard to not suck in his stomach. He wasn't the most attractive man out there he knew, it was only by chance he managed to grab this punk's attention, make him flood with want and desire. His stomach contracted without him thinking, causing his face to turn redder.

Greg tilted his head. "You alright?" He immediately paused, moving his hands away from his stomach. "If you don't want to do this, I understand. I do." Greg flash a smile. The last thing he ever wanted was to force himself on someone. That just wasn't right.

Mycroft smiled softly. "No, I do. I just don't like my stomach is all." He ran a hand through is ginger hair, making a curl fall onto his forehead. He rolled his eyes at himself, before leaning and kissing his companion again, licking into his mouth, grabbing at his arse.

"Mmn!" Greg arched into the man, their crotches rubbing together and creating some beautiful friction. "Top or bottom?" Greg asked in a growling voice. He himself wasn't opposed to either, so he always asked his partners beforehand. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a condom and a packet of lube and set it on the top of the toilet tank.

"Bottom," Mycroft murmured, licking his lips. He wanted nothing more to be taking by this man.

 Greg nodded, turning the man around and pulling his jeans and pants down, kneeling behind him as he went. Greg put a hand on either cheek and spread them. He then leaned in and flicked his tongue against that tight muscle.

"Nnn....ah!" Mycroft ground out, hands scrambling for a hold of something along the smooth wall. "Oh, Nnn, fuck..." He started murmuring in French, praising softly.

Greg smirked but kept it up, circling the man's hole with his tongue. He reached around and started to stroke the ginger's prick, slowly, marveling at how hard he was already. It caused Greg own cock to twitch in his jeans.

Mycroft slammed his mouth shut around a groan, bucking back against that sweet mouth. "Nah....oh please please..."

Between the hand on his cock and the mouth at his entrance, he was spiraling higher and higher with pleasure.

/Oh god these noises.../ Greg thought, lapping one last time at the guy's puckered entrance. He reached around him for the condom and the lube, sticking them both in his mouth so he could undo his belt and unbutton his jeans. He took the condom out and rolled it down over his length, squeezing himself to relieve some of the delicious pressure. He then ripped open the lube packet and poured it over his erection. He used the hand he rubbed it in with and pressed a finger against the man's entrance, sliding in smoothly. He was tight but Greg could tell this wasn't his first time, easily opening him up.

Mycroft was whimpering, begging, voice breaking. "Please...please please S'il vous plaît! S'il vous plaît!! Oh God please!!" His nails were digging into the wall, pleasure shooting through his veins, panting. "Please!!"

Greg moaned softly, his body trembling with want. He pulled his fingers out and positioned his cock at the pink ring. Slowly, he slid in, until he was fully sheathed inside. "Oh, FUCK..." he breathed, pulling back and snapping his hips forward again. One arm went around that thin waist and the other snaked up his shirt, finding a nipple and squeezing it.

Mycroft moaned, a hand going back to tangle in that dark hair. Mycroft had only ever been with Malic, and he knew now no one would measure up again. No one...no on- "Ah!~" he cried when the cock inside him hit his prostate, making him tremble with want. "Oh god...yes...please...."

Greg buried his face in that pale neck as he thrust into the whimpering man. It only spurred Greg on, those sounds. He reached down and rubbed his thumb over the head of the man's prick, the bead of pre-cum moistening his finger.

Mycroft bucked back against him, moaning. /Oh...yes...please.../ "/Fuck yes, oh please, don't stop don't stop....\" He was muttering in Farsi, bucking back. "Fuck..." He pulled at the hair in his hand, laying his head back.

With his breathing coming in pants, Greg kisses the side of that gorgeous neck, making quite sure to leave a mark when he was done. He moved his hands to pale hips and thrust harder and faster into him. "O-oh fu-ck yes..." /So good so good so good/.

Mind whiting out, Mycroft was close to coming, so close, so bloody...."Ah!!!" He arched back, coming harder than he had in his life, so hard he was seeing stars.

"Hnn!!~" Greg moaned, biting down on his bottom lip as he, too, came. His body shuddered and his mind spun, one thought echoing over and over: /He's fucking perfect/. Braced his hand on the wall, gripping the top of the stall to keep standing. "Holy shit," he panted, still pressed against the man's trembling form. "Holy... shit..."

/No one will measure up. Never. Ever./ He was still humming with energy. "Jesus....that was....hmmm..." He didn't want to move, didn't want to end this. To move meant it was over. To move meant the punk behind him would fade into the haze of life.

"I....-" He mobile went off, ringing with the tone he specifically gave for his mother, who only called when his brother was hurt.

Greg blinked as the phone chimed. "Y-yours, I think?" He slowly pulled out and leaned back against the stall door. He looked at the man, marveling about how utterly gorgeous he was and.. frankly, a mind-blowing shag. Greg had never had something that intense ever happen and especially not in a bar's bathroom.

"Yes it is...." He pulled his trousers back up and dug it out. "'Lo?" His mother was in hysterics, something about Sherlock ODing was the only thing Mycroft got out of her panicked words. Best shag he'd had was thrown aside in favor of going to the hospital, Mycroft rushing past the punk and out the door.

Greg blinked and poked his head out the stall, seeing the bathroom door fall shut. He stripped off the condom and put it in the small rubbish bin before pulling up and zipping his jeans. He walked out and looked around for his ginger but... he was nowhere to be found.

\------- 20 Years Later---------

Greg just stared at his husband. "/You/ went to gay bars?" The note of incredulity on his voice was more than noticeable. They had been discussing their times at uni when Greg had brought up going to gay bars. When Mycroft had nonchalantly mentioned that he, himself, had gone to some as well, Greg was a little more than shocked. "I'm sorry if it sounds like I don't believe you, but... I don't believe you, /you/ would frequent gay bars.

Mycroft sighed. "Why is this so hard to believe? Granted I didn't go very often, but I did go." He gave his husband a look. "I wasn't so straight-laced then, Gregory. That came later, when my job practically demanded it. But before then, I did go."

Greg smiled and shook his head, taking a sip of the wine they had poured after their calm (and rare) dinner together. "That's still just odd to think about. You in a gay bar." He paused a moment, thinking back to his own days in uni. "God, those were fun times, though. Dancing, drinking... sometimes more..." He took another drink from his glass. "There was this one time..." Greg was going to tell Mycroft about that one guy he'd shagged in the bathroom, but decided not to. "Ah, nevermind." It still bothered him that he never found that sexy ginger guy again.

"A month after I broke up with my partner at the time, I found myself in one for the first time in months. And...the punk I ran into...Jesus." He stopped, not sure Gregory would want to hear about that. "Doesn't matter, never found him after that. I did have fun however."

Greg arched an eyebrow and looked up at Mycroft. "Oh, do tell? I want to hear all about the adventures of clubbing Mycroft Holmes."

Mycroft smirked laying his head back on the couch. "Well, he was a punk, as previously stated, and he had piercings in his ears, two on each love, both eyebrows, and his tongue. He was clad in white ripped jeans, a dark green shirt and a charcoal waist coat, unbuttoned. He was starting to turn grey, but that-" he suddenly stopped. The elder Holmes looked at his husband. "Where were you pierced again?"

Greg stared at Mycroft leaning up. "Two in each lobe, tongue and both eyebrows..." What really spooked him the most, though, was the fact that Mycroft had described the outfit he had been wearing on that night with his... "...sexy ginger," he finished his thought aloud. He looked at Mycroft again. "Oh... oh my god..."

"The odds...no no, this isn't.." But when he /looked/, he could see the punk he has met that night. "Jesuuuuus." Mycroft put his face in his hands. "I went back there. Looking for you."

"So did I! When I wasn't working I was looking for you!" Greg sat back against the couch. "Bloody... hell..." He just stared off into space, trying to process this. He'd thought he'd lost that man forever... when, in fact, he'd married him! What are the bloody odds?!

"Astronomical." Mycroft said as he dropped his hands. He looked over at Gregory, before chuckling. "I came back after realizing my brother would have to be hospitalized for ODing...but you were gone."

He laid down, using Gregory's lap as a pillow. "My beautiful punk."

Greg smiled down at his husband adoringly. "My gorgeous ginger..." He played with Mycroft's soft hair. "I'm so glad I found you again..." He chuckled. "Without even realising it, apparently."

"No one measured up after you. No one." He looked away briefly. "Malic attempted to get me back again when you weren't around. He ambushed me outside the club more than once." He looked back up and tangled fingers in grey hair.

Greg shook his head. "I'm so sorry, love. I'm sorry you had to deal with him." Greg knew how awful that slimeball was. "But you're mine now. And I'm yours." He smiled down at his beloved. "I love you, Mycroft."

"And I you, Gregory." He was content to just lay there, staring at the love of his life. "You know," he said a little later. "I can still wear those jeans."

The noise Greg made wasn't meant to be heard out of the bedroom, where they soon ended up.


End file.
